


Look at the stars

by Cao_the_dreamer



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exile, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 09:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cao_the_dreamer/pseuds/Cao_the_dreamer
Summary: Secret Solenoid for Adilia.Two old enemies living now as a happy couple.





	Look at the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Look at the stars（中文版）看那些星星](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17960003) by [Cao_the_dreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cao_the_dreamer/pseuds/Cao_the_dreamer), [Elenion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenion/pseuds/Elenion)



> Everything said in the summary ;) I hope you will like it Adilia!

“I knew I would find you here.”

The old warlord did not turn his head. On this little deserted planet, there was only one other person who would look for him after he had sneaked out of the berth to behold the sky full of stars.

After all, there were only two of them in this place.

He had heard the footsteps way before his mate has spoken. After vorns fighting each other, he had learnt to know him better than anyone else.

Optimus sat next to Megatron, cross-legged like the grey mech, and they stayed silent for a while. The stars around them shone from afar, spots of pale white piercing through infinite dark punctuated with deep blue and vivid purple. It seemed like you could reach them just by extending your hand, but as you did so they slipped through your fingers and remained out of reach.

“Another memory?” Optimus asked softly, breaking the silence.

Megatron nodded. There was no need for explanation. Millions of years of war had imprinted the memory banks forever, leaving unremovable scars that awoke as soon as the mechs dropped their defense.

The war was over, but the world left in the aftermath needed to be reconstructed, something that the two ex-leaders were not allowed to participate in. Both embodied a past that no one would like to remember, full of violence and hate. If Cybertron would be brought to its former glory, it would be without those held accountable for the conflict that destroyed so many worlds and took the life of so many.

But the bitterness of the exile, of the prospect of never seeing their home again, and the guilt squelching their spark was lessened by the presence of each other.

Their frame sang in unison as they travelled from solar systems to nebulas, from asteroid fields to supernovas. Space was silent, and they filled this silence with their presence.

They had stopped on this planet where there was enough energon for them to refuel, and eventually settle down. Maybe one day the reserves would run so low they would have to search again; but for now they simply enjoyed what was given to them.

They built a little house, a shelter where they could rest. But Optimus knew that Megatron could not get some rest, not for tonight at least. That was what he understood when he had woken up from recharge to find the berth next to his empty.

Both were haunted by their past. But at least they could face it together.

That was what he was thinking as he extended a hand to softly stroke Megatron’s arm. No sound escaped the ex-warlord’s smiling lips as Optimus’ hand trailed up and down, from the shoulder to the elbow, then in the reverse order. All the while the EM field of the red truck engulfed them both, a warm bubble that spoke of safety, fondness, concern, care.

As two bots living together — as a couple, even if they did not dare to speak this word out loud, of shyness or of stubbornness they did not know — they had slowly learnt how to act toward each other, with their preferences, their boundaries. Megatron was someone who, after millennia of having his frame beaten up and torn apart, craved for something soft and gentle, which Optimus’ caresses always were. Being gently held within a loved one’s arms was something very pleasant too. As for Optimus, he had always admired Megatron’s writing, before everything turned upside down. When his own demons were beginning to stir within his mind, Megatron’s soothing voice made words come alive, reciting recent and old poems, and it was an anchor to which Optimus clung.

He was always happy when his partner wrote another poem. Nothing grandiose or epic — simple things as everyday life, and sometimes about the stars.

And one about the time when both got accidently locked up in the cupboard, which had been uncomfortable (due to the cramped space) _and_ hilarious at the same time. Oh well, at least it was fun writing about it.

They liked to read together. They argued about their favourite book, and always tried to convince the other to read it — sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not, but when it did, they could not help but tease the other about it. But there was nothing better than sitting next to each other in a comfortable silence, datapads in hands and content smiles spreading across their face. There were times when they would fall into recharge shoulder to shoulder, books scattered around their frame.

It was not their planet. But at least it was home.

“I think there are some rust sticks left,” Megatron said, making Optimus stop in his stroking, and smiled.

“A warm cube along with treats it is then,” Optimus declared as he stood up. He offered a hand to his partner, which Megatron took without hesitation.

They did not part their hands as they walked their way home.

* * *

 

  
Optimus was humming.

Megatron felt it more than he heard it, for the Prime was hugging him from behind, his face pressed against his shoulder, while the grey mech was washing the cubes of energon. He recognised the tune, and started to hum too.

The melody called out memories. The first time they had tried to dance together, it had been with this song.

Keyword is ‘tried’. Both are very, very terrible at dancing. The first time they danced, they ended up tangled on the floor, and they laughed loudly at their clumsiness.

Was Optimus willing to do it again? Megatron turned around and gently took Optimus’ hands. The Prime seemed to understand for he smiled and began to slowly move, Megatron following the movement.

It was fun while it lasted… That is, for forty-two seconds, before Optimus’ pedes suddenly bumped against Megatron’s as they were whirling, causing them to lose their balance.

And they ended up on the floor. Again.

The house was filled with the sound of deep laughters. Between two wheezes, Optimus asked if they were cursed, to which Megatron replied that it was maybe the dance who did not like them.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Optimus said with an amused tone.

Megatron rose on an elbow to plant a kiss on the Prime’s forehelm.

“Not everything has to make sense,” he then softly said, his nasal guard brushing against Optimus’.

They looked into each other’s optics for a moment, silent. Then their lips met, fully but gently, and soon enough Optimus’ hands were on Megatron’s frame, caressing, exploring a body he knew every inch about and yet loved to discover it again.

Megatron let go. Megatron let go of his nightmares, of his haunting past, of his exhaustion, thanks to the Prime’s attention, thanks to the softness of the one he was now sharing his existence with.

When he was later pinned to the berth, chassis against chassis, moaning the Prime’s name and struggling to take the large length that made him a panting mess, all the pain had been chased away from his mind.

Even though the peace was temporary, he welcomed it with open arms, and whispered three words in Optimus’ audios, again and again, to thank him for being by his side.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are the fuel of the writer ^^
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
